


All That Matters

by voiceless_terror



Series: Prompt Fills [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Deep in the JonMartin Feelings Again, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prompt Fill, Season Three/Season Four, What else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/pseuds/voiceless_terror
Summary: Three hugs shared between Martin and Jon.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: Prompt Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921006
Comments: 13
Kudos: 191





	All That Matters

Martin had been recording statements for weeks now.

It never got any better, somehow. Each one sent him spiralling into a pit of horror and he was getting less and less sleep. He’d never liked researching them to begin with, but this was so much worse. Was this how Jon felt every time he recorded? No wonder he was always so tired and snippy.

Jon. He hadn’t been back to the archives in a month now. Not that he’d been around before; after finally clearing his name, he seemed to be forever galavanting around the country, coming back with more and more worrisome injuries. And then, nothing. Radio silence for a month. Elias would have told them if something was really wrong, right? He wouldn’t let Jon die. Grievous bodily harm on the clock, sure. But dying…

Nothing was out of the realm of possibility. Now that they were trying to ‘save the world’ or whatever. Tim had thrown himself into his work on the circus and was frankly awful to be around. Melanie and Basira were alright, but not necessarily friendly. Daisy was gone more often than not, thank god. But work used to be his place to escape, no matter how awful it got. Back when it was him and Tim and Jon and Sasha... _Sasha._ Best not to think about her. It made Martin’s head hurt and chest ache.

Now he worked at a nightmare factory and he came home to another one. His mother was getting worse and worse by the day, vacillating between pure hatred and mild irritation even in her most lucid moments. Martin didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

He stared at the piece of paper in his hand. _I don’t think I can do another one of these. Should’ve gone to lunch with the others._

The door to the archives creaked open and he looked up, hoping to find Melanie or even Tim in a good mood. He got neither. Standing in the doorway was Jon- tired and sad and thinner than ever Jon, but still _Jon._ Before he could think it through he was on his feet, making his way across the room and pulling his boss into his arms.

And Jon felt so small in his arms, like if he squeezed too hard he could break him. He didn’t smell too pleasant either- a mixture of dirty clothes worn for far too long and an odd flowery scent, like perfumed lotion. It was strange, it wasn’t Jon.

Jon. His boss. Who was currently frozen and tense in his embrace. It was then he registered what he’d just done and turned red in embarrassment, starting to pull away and apologize-

But then Jon relaxed bonelessly, leaning against his body like it was the only thing holding him up. Perhaps it was. He wound his arms around Martin’s waist and buried his head in his sweater. He felt like he was shaking.

“ _Martin,”_ he whispered. He has never heard his name said with such relief, loaded with such sentiment. It was a poem in a single word that Martin will write when he puts pen to paper.

For now he holds Jon and says nothing. He’s home, and that’s all that matters.

* * *

  
  


He needs to find Martin.

Martin, who supposedly was at his side through much of his six month coma. Martin, who’s lost his mother. 

Martin, the last assistant standing from his turn as Archivist. Perhaps he was more like Gertrude than he thought.

Basira tells him that he’s run off, that he works for Peter Lukas now and doesn’t have time for them. But that isn’t right. Martin has always made time for Jon, even when he didn’t deserve it. Jon thinks that was more often than not. Tim would’ve agreed.

_Tim._ Best not to think about him. It made his head hurt and his chest ache. He’s lost so much in these last few months, but Martin’s lost more. He knows what it feels like to be utterly alone. God, why had he spent so much time wandering that hellish dreamscape? Why couldn’t he have woken up when Martin was by his side? Why did it take a stranger, a _spider_ to pull him from his dreams?

Georgie left. She’d spent six months at his side, but waking up was somehow the last straw for her in terms of supernatural miracles. Jon thinks she would have liked him better if he never woke up. Stayed in her dreams, haunting her in silence.

But Martin wasn’t in his dreams. Martin was here and real and somewhere in this institute if only he could _find_ him. Why was this so hard? He used to practically trip over the man. Was he avoiding him? Certainly seemed so. Jon couldn’t do anything right, not even a coma, it seemed.

He waded deeper and deeper into Document Storage. Martin was here, he could sense it. If only there wasn’t so much damn fog-

_“Oof-”_ came the noise from the blockade he’d run into. Jon turned to snap a brisk apology when he saw that it was the man he’d been searching for. Tired and diminished somehow, but still- _Martin._

“Martin!” he burst out. Happy, tentative, hopeful. Before he knew it he was throwing his arms around the man and burying his face in his sweater. The man felt brittle- cold when he used to be so warm. Smelling of salt and sea and something not right. He squeezed tighter, as if to ward off the scent.

It was then he noticed that Martin wasn’t hugging him back. He was awkward and tense and cold, so _cold._ Jon starts to take his arms back and meet his eyes to ask what’s wrong when Martin finally reciprocates, his touch light and tentative but still there. 

It doesn’t feel right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either. Jon feels like something has broken in his hand and he doesn’t know how to put it back together.

But he holds on anyway. Martin’s here, and that’s all that matters.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They are waiting for a train.

It will take them far from the institute, far from the chaos and the bodies they’ve left in their wake. Basira promises to call. They don’t talk about Daisy, or not!Sasha or the hunters or Jonah. There will be time for talking when they stop running. And they’re still running.

Martin has not let go of Jon’s hand since he led him out of the Lonely. Since he watched Peter Lukas die, torn apart at Jon’s insistent questioning. He felt nothing at all when it happened. He still doesn’t feel much, but the warmth of Jon’s hand in his is starting to register. The hesitant, broken smiles the man keeps giving. He wants to make them whole again.

So he turns to Jon, and he smiles back. The action feels foreign, but it is genuine. Jon’s eyes light up and he gazes at Martin like the sun rises and sets with him.

“Martin,” Jon says, and in it Martin can hear years of unspoken words and feelings. It is grief but it is happiness. What they’ve lost and what they’ve now found. What they’re heading towards.

Martin pulls him close to his chest and squeezes. Jon’s reaction is instantaneous and his arms say _I love you_ as they wind around his waist. He smells right- like ink and tea stains and cigarettes and shampoo. He wants to wake up to that smell every morning. Wants to learn every little thing he can about the man in his arms. 

But for now he just holds on. They are together, and that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for an anon prompt on tumblr- "a hug after not seeing someone for a long time." I had a hard time choosing between hugs, so I just did three of them!
> 
> Let me know if you liked. You can reach me at @voiceless-terror on tumblr for asks/prompts.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
